Rise of a Merchant Prince

Two hundred or more had gathered in the gallery, and Erik noted in passing that some showed recent wounds. But he hadn’t time to dwell on where else the Pantathians were battling. He assumed it was with that third player Calis referred to.

 

Every man in the company knew that surprise only gained them a slight advantage, and that they must quickly press that advantage, killing as many Pantathians as possible. Orders were passed on the other side of the hall, the hissing language of the serpent priests impossible to understand. Erik laid about him with as much efficiency as he could muster; in the first two minutes of battle, a snake man died for each blow he delivered.

 

Then the defense got organized and began to push the attackers back. Just as the tide of battle seemed to tip, the twenty bowmen took up position on the ridge overlooking the gallery and began to rain arrows down upon the Pantathians.

 

Erik shouted, “Advance!” and waded into the dying foe-men, and could hear others repeat his order. As before, the Pantathians refused to yield and stood their ground, dying either by arrow or by sword blow.

 

Then it was silent.

 

Erik glanced around and could see twitching bodies all around. A few were his own men, but most were greenskinned. He glanced around, taking mental inventory, then after looking twice, turned to find de Loungville, gasping for breath, standing a short distance away. “We have seven down, Sergeant Major.”

 

De Loungville nodded. Erik directed others to get the wounded and move them back up to the ridge where the archers waited. Erik then joined de Loungville, Calis, and Miranda in inspecting the hall. Scouts were sent into nearby galleries, barely visible in the light.

 

The air was humid and hot. Breathing was difficult. A crack in the floor along the far wall bled steam in a steady flow. Several of the Pantathians were still alive, and Calis’s men quickly executed them. The orders had been defined: if it was a Pantathian, kill it. No serpent man, woman, or child was to be spared. Erik had felt little concern for the order, but the men had discussed it.

 

After a battle in which comrades had fallen, carrying out the orders was easy enough. Then a scout called out, “Sergeant! Over here!”

 

Erik turned and trotted over. “What is it?”

 

“Look, sir.”

 

Erik looked at a gallery and saw a bubbling pool of hot water in the center of the room. It had obviously been hollowed out by the serpent priests, as the marks of tools were visible in the rocks. More than a dozen large eggs were arrayed around the pool, close enough to incubate, but not so close as to cook the young.

 

One of the eggs was moving.

 

Erik approached the egg as a fracture appeared along one side, and then with a loud crack, it split. The tiny body that tumbled out was little larger than a dog. It blinked as if confused and cried in a sound that was eerily like that of a human baby.

 

Erik raised his sword and hesitated as the tiny creature made its inquisitive crying sounds. Then the baby Pantathian turned its gaze upon Erik.

 

The baby’s eyes narrowed, and Erik saw hatred in those newborn orbs. With animosity bordering on rage, the tiny creature hissed and hurled itself at Erik.

 

 

 

Reflexively Erik brought his blade down, severing the tiny creature’s head from its shoulders.

 

Erik felt his gorge rise, and swallowing hard, shouted, “Break them!”

 

The scout joined him and they smashed the remaining eggs. Tiny bodies spilled from the eggs and Erik found himself wishing he could have been anywhere else. The stench that quickly rose from the creatures was noxious beyond anything he had endured.

 

Leaving the chamber after the grisly work was over, Erik saw others repeating his actions in other galleries close by. More than one man left the galleries retching at what they had seen.

 

After a few minutes, Miranda said, “There is something. . ..”

 

“What?” said Calis.

 

“I don’t know . . . but it’s close.”

 

Calis stood motionless, then said, “I think I know what it is.” He moved to a tunnel leading downward. “This way.”

 

De Loungville said, “Two dead, five wounded, only one too badly to keep up.”

 

Only the briefest flickering of the muscles along Calis’s jaw betrayed his pain at hearing that report. Calis was starting toward the ramp leading to where the wounded were being cared for when de Loungville said, “I’ll ask him.”

 

Erik knew that Bobby was going to ask the man if he preferred a quick death at the hands of his comrades, or if he wished to risk being left alone to whatever fate brought him, hoping that Calis’s company would return this way and be able to pick him up. Erik knew which choice he would have made, or at least he thought he did, and wondered how de Loungville could volunteer for such a task.

 

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